


Shifting Focus

by Dreamcaster



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Cheering Up Your Girlfriend, Emotional Porn, F/F, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Black Eagles Route, Happy Sex, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Spoilers for Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, byleth has glasses!, they were worth every penny tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:47:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21634624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreamcaster/pseuds/Dreamcaster
Summary: Buckling under the weight of authority and infinite paperwork, Edelgard has a crisis of confidence... in her Professor's presence. This will prove either to be a terrible, embarrassing mistake, or the best idea Edelgard has ever had.Probably both, though.
Relationships: Edelgard von Hresvelg/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 3
Kudos: 207





	Shifting Focus

Edelgard von Hresvelg, Emperor of the Adrestian Empire and all which she surveyed, had come across, and triumphed over, her fair share of adversaries. One would say too many for her age, but that was the burden that came with rule.

And yet, what stood before her was, without a doubt in her mind, the most intimidating opponent she had encountered to date:

Her own desk, full to the brim with paperwork.

No, seriously, _there was so much_. No one knew her troubles, her pain. The people, the history books, only ever concentrated on the bloody battlefirld campaigns, always leaving out the beaureaucratic particulars! As if farmland boundaries and ledger reports weren’t just as interesting!

Oh, who was she kidding?

When she wrote her memoirs, she’d leave these nights out too.

In a vain bid to gain some semblance of order over the situation, Edelgard shuffled through the documents for the third time in the last hour. As she did so, making makeshift piles sorted by subject matter, her mind flashed back to the one and only time she’d tried to beat Petra in a swimming contest across the nearby lake. How she swam and swam, stroke by stroke, pushing against the water with laborious force, with all of her might, against an entity that she could barely see, yet absolutely _feel_ …

…and yet still managed to get _nowhere_ and thus had to buy Petra dinner that night.

Yes. This was exactly like that, without question.

Soon enough, even the idle shuffling of papers turned to buzzing in her ears, and she stopped again with a groan. Honestly. She’d planned for this. Years ago, she’d devised a full organization system based on all of the papers she’d accumulated over the first several months into her campaign to unify Fódlan.

And yet, now, here she was, that system having long since crumbled. The wooden boxes which her friends had gifted her, _made_ for her, inscribed with “Incoming” and “Outgoing” on their sides, had long since ceased to be visible. Buried under a pile of white, as if from a snowstorm. Edelgard shivered on reflex. Thank goodness the time for such weather had already passed in the real world. Winter was always a harsh mistress, both on and off the battlefield.

Edelgard’s lamentation of the paper mountain in front of her was mercifully interrupted by a knock at her door. With a short, eager intake of breath, she jumped to full height—almost too eager, given the circumstances.

But only because she knew who had come to call. She took a moment to bite her lip, holding back a rush of adrenaline, as well as giddy, girlish giggles which she would rather be put to the sword than allow the public to witness. With a deep inhale, and relaxing exhale, Edelgard strode to the door, and opened it wide…

Only to see a tall brown-haired young man on the other side.

Her adrenaline spiked again, this time accompanying an utterly different emotion.

“Greetings, Lady Edelgard!” he exclaimed with a boisterous, winning smile, completely oblivious to Edelgard’s own baring of teeth. “I’ve just had quite the epiphany on the nature of nobility that I would, quite frankly, _love_ to discuss with you into the sunrise hours should you so desire—”

_“No.”_

Edelgard slammed the door in his face, the impact of wood against stone echoing through her chambers far more loudly than she would have liked. She walked to the wall beside the door, leaning against it, her face contorting into what normally happens when one holds in a bloodcurdling scream, before finally expelling the anger in a single, heated, huff.

Ferdinand was _not_ the worst person in the universe. Ferdinand was hardly the worst person in even Edelgard’s universe. Ferdinand was a trusted comrade, and he was often good for a laugh, but his sense of timing tended to be the worst in all of recorded history and he was the _last person Edelgard needed especially right now sweet humanity—_

Oh.

Looks like she’d needed to scream after all.

Fortunately, her trusty pillow was nearby. She rushed to it, holding it to her lips. Now, her pillow, _that_ was a friend. It was always soft and warm, always inviting Edelgard to tell it her troubles, always asking to take all of her frustrations, silently and in stride, regardless of their nature.

And, possibly best of all, it would never, _ever_ tell others what transpired.

She vented. Catharsis returned. Edelgard’s body relaxed. Her fists unclenched. The burning blaze of annoyance within her subsided to simmering embers. She sat on her bed and sighed, looking for a long time across the room at the mountain of papers.

Nothing for it but to do it, she supposed.

As Edelgard rose to her feet with another sigh, she heard a second set of knocks at her door. She perked up again, but only with half her energy, the other half now replaced with apprehension. Dare she hope, yet again? Or were the cynics correct, and hope truly was a fruitless endeavor?

With measured steps, Edelgard sauntered back to the door, and opened it just a crack—but still more than enough to see a familiar shade of cyan filling her vision. She opened the door further, allowing to reveal the owner of that ocean-blue hair.

An owner who was one of the few women Edelgard allowed to rival her in stature—both physical and metaphorical.

At last.

Her teacher was here.

And, instantly, Edelgard’s universe was all the happier for it.

* * *

Professor Byleth smiled.

Edelgard smiled back at the view of her professor, still wearing her teaching glasses, and still wearing a somewhat-wrinkled black casual dress, same as herself. “Oh, goodness,” Edelgard said, making sure concern was written on her face, while keeping her enjoyment of said view hidden. “I certainly hope I didn’t put you out.”

Byleth shook her head. “Not at all. It has been a long day, but helping my students in my time of need is my job…” Byleth gazed into Edelgard’s eyes. “…and my greatest joy in life.”

Edelgard’s heart fluttered in a million ways. Her talents willed her poker face to let none of them slip. “Well, then, please come in, and…” Edelgard poked her head outside in the hallway, looking in both directions, to make no Ferdinands or Caspars or even Huberts were lurking about (then again, “lurking about” was Hubert’s default mode, but he knew where to draw lines when it came to her privacy, at least. Usually). “Lock the door behind you.”

Byleth did so, and Edelgard walked behind her desk, back to the snowstorm of documents which continued to rage. “I admit that my motivation for sending for you was an entirely selfish one. Simply put, I’ll go absolutely mad without someone to talk to about to as I go over these papers.”

“What are they?” Byleth asked. Of course, she already knew, and Edelgard knew that she already knew, but this was exactly why Edelgard had sent for her: the casual, easygoing, and—most importantly—non-judgmental conversation which she and Byleth shared never failed to put her at ease. Such conversation was somehow impossible for her to carry on with anyone else in her circle save for perhaps Dorothea on her best days—and outside of that circle, oh, forget it.

Edelgard swept her hand in a grand gesture over the storm of stationery. “Negotiations. Property divisions. Battle plans, strategies, financials, most wanted lists. Any of these I could easily handle on their own, but they’ve combined and amassed, and try as I might to handle a little each day, I…” Edelgard placed her palms on the desk, leaning on them as she exhaled through pursed lips. “I fear even I may not be enough.”

She took another deep breath, willing herself to relax. She was not going to let a huge stack of inanimate objects get to her, damn it. She was Edelgard, sworn ruler of practically an entire damned continent, and she did _not_ bow down to pieces of parchment and oh gosh her professor’s hand had just found its way atop hers meaning that bowing was near compulsory given that Edelgard’s legs almost gave out completely at that moment.

Certainly her breath had. Edelgard looked up and over to her teacher’s smiling, encouraging face, frozen in time.

“I don’t believe that for a second,” Byleth said, with a voice which effortlessly danced on silk, sounding as sweet as the cake they’d had for dessert together mere hours prior.

This time, Edelgard’s talents failed her, and every blush escaped. Just the _sight_ of her professor at this point… goodness. Had soliciting solace from her teacher been a good idea in the end, or the worst she’d had all month?

Edelgard took several moments and several deep breaths to compose herself. Given who she was with, she knew it would be fine. Professor Byleth didn’t judge—only encouraged, advised, sometimes criticised and warned—but even then, entirely in good faith and with the well-being of her charges, her _friends_ , in mind.

So much like Edelgard herself. So much like the kind of ruler Edelgard strived to be. So many of those Edelgard was close to said the same of herself, but in truth, their claims would be utter jokes if not for the woman standing before her right now. “Thank you,” Edelgard said. “Your encouragement is a boon as always.”

With the slightest tint on her cheeks that did _not_ escape Edelgard’s notice, Byleth nodded and removed her hand, allowing Edelgard to reach over and clasp hers in turn, and stare up at her teacher.

“Please, Professor. I’m not asking for you to dive into all of this with me. All I ask for tonight is… companionship.” Byleth’s hands were just the right amount of warm. Edelgard blushed again, looking away, willing herself not to stroke her thumb over them. “I told you it was selfish.”

Byleth didn’t reply. Edelgard turned back, looking back to her teacher to communicate that her request was genuine.

“If I can remain of focused mind as I tackle the work in front of me, then it will be child’s play to get through,” Edelgard said, still fighting to contain the rushing of her heart, yet refusing to let go of the wonderfully warm and soft hands which were the direct cause. Her voice seemed to echo through the room more loudly than normal, fueling her self-consciousness, stranding her in a blissful, terrifying heat. “It’s just that tonight, that’s a big if. Can you simply stay with me? Keep my mind from veering off task?”

Byleth nodded. “Of course,” she said, as calmly as if Edelgard had requested a glass of water. The response almost threw Edelgard off with its casualness, but it did also allow her to let go of her fears. Thank goodness. The heat was released.

Well, most of it.

“Thank you.”

Immediately, Byleth went to sit to at one of the room’s side tables, waiting intently, distanced from Edelgard’s view, but not hidden.

And, at last emboldened, Edelgard waded into the storm.

* * *

From then on, the two played their roles as promised.

Edelgard worked dutifully as promised, quill and clips in hand, and—thankfully, for once—with a listening ear and a suggestive voice at the ready. Sometimes Edelgard would think aloud, asking her professor her feelings and opinions on so many subjects: Strategies, potential allies, roadblocks to progress, what delicacies they should serve at the next Black Eagles Banquet…

And in the end, it was all for naught.

The inevitable had only been delayed for thirty minutes.

Slowly but surely, the documents became less and less readable. Edelgard certainly wasn’t going blind; a quick check of the title of the book in her desk drawer which she was currently reading for fun was still legible to her.

But if whatever sheet of paper was in front of her eyes had anything to do with politics, the language written on said sheet lost absolutely all meaning. They were now all jumbles, and though Edelgard was well-versed in their legal language, they were all, at present, utterly incomprehensible.

With a groan, Edelgard rested her forehead in her hands, and shook her head. “I knew this would happen. I hate this.”

Byleth got up instantly, of course, knowing something was wrong. In moments, she was at Edelgard’s side. Even without seeing it, Edelgard could hear her, and also sense when she was close. She always could sense her teacher’s approach, whether when taking quiet walks outside, or when giving orders on a busy, noisy, chaotic battlefield—and it would always fill her with the motivation to keep going.

To keep living.

But even Byleth’s reassuring hand on her shoulder wasn’t enough to ward off the feelings of sadness slowly descending on her heart. The snowstorm was no longer the stack of papers. The blizzard was now within her chest, as her inadequacy threatened to crush her—far more effectively than usual.

“I… I don’t know what to do,” Edelgard said. “I don’t. About any of this.”

She could tell that her professor was about to speak, perhaps to remind her that she wasn’t the giving-up type, but Edelgard wasn’t going to give Byleth the chance to prove herself a liar.

She stood up.

“Professor, my goal, since before you came into my life, since our old monastery days, during your disappearance, and since your return, has always been to unify Fódlan under the principle that its current systems, its government, its classes, its institutions, were broken, and thus needed to be reformed. I still believe in that cause, with all my heart. And yet, I…”

She gestured over the documents once more. She then pointed to the documents which had long since fallen off of the desk’s edges, which she’d managed to keep out of her view, to keep out of her existence’s eye in order to give herself a fleeting sense of hope, until now. She gestured to another table in another corner, filled with even more requests from the people. The more territories she added to her domain, the greater the load had become.

“I have repeatedly run into the fact that I greatly underestimated the magnitude of the mission I was setting for myself,” Edelgard continued. “ _This_ is what happens when everyone is allowed their say, and while I wholeheartedly support such a notion in principle, there are moments—not many, but fleeting, vulnerable, _significant_ moments nevertheless—when I feel that the dictators of old and of present had a point, and that this continent and its classes would remain better broken, without the hand of reformation to pick up the pieces. The sole benefit of such systems was that they made… micromanagement far less of an issue. And it’s a benefit one painfully feels the absence of when going against the tide.”

Edelgard turned around, away from the papers, away from her teacher, and walked towards her room’s window, opening one side of it for some air. It was a calm night, warm for the time of year, yet the blizzard within herself continued to rage.

Edelgard lay her head low. “I feel terrible about saying any of this, Professor. Absolutely awful. Look at me, whining like some child about her homework, while there are people in the streets, downtrodden, mistreated, exploited simply because of the names they were born under. Those names deserve a voice, they always have, and I’m trying to finally give it to them, to say nothing of people of my status who were mistreated as well, but I…!”

Out of words, her true emotions banging against the locked gates of her heart and able to go no further, Edelgard slumped.

“I am… ill-equipped,” she breathed. “And yet, there is no one else.”

* * *

A cold breeze washed over Edelgard as she said those words, finally allowing herself to admit them completely.

She heard her professor moving towards her again, with those airy, light steps. But no. Not this time. It would not be fair. Edelgard shook her head.

“Please ignore me, my teacher. It was wrong for me to ask for your presence when you have so many important things to attend to, so many more important people who are actually up to the task of fulfilling their roles. I’m…” She nearly choked on the words, the stone of the windowsill near-crumbling between her fingers in the same manner as her resolve. “I’m sorry for wasting your time.”

Anyone else in her position would have cried. Edelgard knew this because she had come close to doing so many, _many_ times over the years, only managing to stop short by reminding herself _of_ her position. Instead, she continued to stand, her eyes closed, head bowed, keeping her face stoic even against her self-pity. Self-pity was a fact of life. It would pass, and once it did, as usual, she would have to dig deep into herself to find the strength to carry on.

It was always an exhausting process, and one that she could feel draining what was left of her energy even now, but she had to. For the sake of her friends. For the sake of her empire, her soldiers, her colleagues, for—oh.

Oh, my.

So lost had Edelgard been in herself that, be it by sight, sound or sense, she hadn’t noticed Byleth close the rest of the distance to her. Or perhaps her professor had undergone extra stealth training from Hubert? It would certainly come in handy outside of these chambers.

Nevertheless, without warning, Edelgard now felt Byleth’s arms wrap around her figure from behind, covering her storm-stranded heart with the softest, gentlest, thickest blanket—a blanket which felt like a forest blaze striking out against the hopelessness, allowing a single spark within herself to light.

Accompanying Byleth’s warmth was the faint scent of mint, which her professor’s hair color so reminded her of these days. After joking about it once, Byleth, apparently having taken it to heart, had begun occasionally using mint as a perfume. Edelgard took a bemused gratitude in that, in no small part because it was just a nice scent when applied gracefully, as Byleth always did.

But Edelgard hadn’t smelled it earlier today. She hadn’t smelled it half an hour ago.

Had Byleth brought it with her? Had she come prepared? Had she known all along?

Still in Byleth’s arms, Edelgard shifted herself completely around and leant into the embrace completely, wrapping her arms around her professor, and resting her head above Byleth’s bosom. It was likely improper, and Edelgard did not care one bit anymore. A single deep breath allowed her to take in the soothing mint scent at its strongest—not overpowering, but still holding the power to make Edelgard want to stay in her professor’s arms forever.

Well, more so than usual.

But again… no. “Professor, you really should go. Please. I’m asking you to put your talents where they are most needed.”

She missed a breath and a heartbeat at the same time, upon feeling a kiss to her forehead. It was a feather-light, loving peck that she almost missed outright, but it sent her mind and heart tumbling, spinning with questions.

“Professor?” she breathed, as she felt Byleth’s body shift, felt one of Byleth’s arms detach from her embrace and move up Edelgard’s body. Soon, Edelgard’s chin was held by Byleth’s fingers, nudging it upwards so that she and Edelgard were face to face.

And there was that reassurance, written on her professor’s face, that extra reserve of confidence that Edelgard could always call upon when her own reserves were empty.

“It appears I’m most needed here,” Byleth said.

“Professor…” Edelgard could only breathe again, as her teacher brought her face closer, never leaving Edelgard’s eyes for an instant, robbing Edelgard of her mental faculties while making her brain work overtime.

What was happening? Why was this happening? She should stop this from happening no why would she _ever?_ Did she not steal so many moments over the months to engage in equal amounts small talk and “professional conversation”? Did she not ask for her teacher’s private audience every moment she could think up the flimsiest excuse? Did her heart not flutter in every single instance, in the mere anticipatory _thought_ of every instance? Did she not secretly look forward to what would otherwise be every depressing, bloody campaign because it meant that she and Byleth would be side by side?

Side by side.

Side by side, but always outside, on the open battlefield. Never inside, behind closed doors, with hardly an inch between them, with Edelgard on the verge of fainting as pulsing desire rippled through every inch of herself.

Of _course_ Edelgard wanted this. And like everything else Edelgard wanted…

No. Edelgard couldn’t _take_ this, couldn’t _conquer_ this. She needed to know her teacher wanted it too. In the end, such was her frustration. Her _yearning._

If only. Edelgard’s breathing deepened. If only, if only, _if only…!_

“Just as you value your role in the unification of Fódlan and the freedom of its people,” Byleth said, “I would be remiss if I did not do my best to fulfill my role as instructor and advisor to this world’s greatest hope.” Byleth’s hand found Edelgard’s cheek, and she traced her thumb across Edelgard’s lips.

Ripples became quivers.

And Byleth’s voice slipped to a whisper.

“My best student… my dearest love…” A serene smile crossed her lips. “My wonderful El.”

* * *

So many things. Just now, so many perfect things, long-yearned-for things, that her teacher had just called her. Edelgard, with zero idea of where to begin processing, simply stood stock still, frozen on the outside as she had once been inwardly.

“Professor,” Edelgard shivered through her words, one final time, as Byleth closed the last bit of distance between them, and Edelgard welcomed a brand new kiss—this time in the place she had always wanted it.

_She_ does _want the same._

If it was possible to die of joy, Edelgard would have at that very moment. As things stood, she moaned into her professor’s lips as Byleth locked her hand to the back of Edelgard’s head, pulling the emperor even closer, causing Edelgard to explode from within.

The gates fell. The sparks ignited.

And the tears finally came, running freely, with Edelgard utterly apathetic to their presence.

She had no idea how long she and her teacher, her beloved, stood there, exchanging gratitude and appreciation for each other without words, with only their lips and tongues, while Byleth did her best to wipe away her ruler’s incessant tears. In fact, Byleth’s free hand was incredibly busy all around, caressing around Edelgard’s entire frame, front and back, and shuffling. Byleth’s other hand joined it before long, the invisible blanket around Edelgard’s heart becoming an invisible blanket around her body.

Then Byleth finally let go, leaving Edelgard to gasp for breath, and then notice, with no small amount of anticipation, that her dress felt far looser than normal. The buttons and straps had all been undone. Yet more stealth training, no doubt. She looked up into Byleth’s eyes with plafyul accusation. The eyes which stared back were peaceful as ever, but now with the slightest hint of twinkling invitation.

With an indulgent, mischievous smile, Edelgard turned back around, pressing herself against her loving teacher, allowing Byleth to help her out of the dress’s sleeves, while also allowing Byleth to worship her neck from all sides. The same girlish giggles which Edelgard once guarded with her life now escaped with abandon and mixed with shuddering groans as Byleth’s lips and tongue mercilessly tickled and massaged her collar and bare shoulders, distracting Edelgard until her dress fell around her ankles, and her bra followed in short order.

For the first time that night, Edelgard felt a true, non-metaphorical chill. On instinct, she pressed herself back towards her professor again, with a breathy moan as Byleth touched her shoulders, and slowly trailed her hands down Edelgard’s sides.

“Professor,” Edelgard moaned yet again, somewhat cursing herself for not being able to say much of anything else, but how could she when the woman behind her knew exactly what she wanted, likely knew for _years_ , yet also knew how to so tantalizingly keep it out of reach?

Byleth, much to Edelgard’s exasperation, much to Edelgard’s _arousal,_ was in no hurry to rush things. Inch by laborious heated inch, Her hands rubbed up and down Edelgard’s torso, stopping every so often to cup and paw and play with Edelgard’s breasts, her thumbs rubbing back and forth against nipples, ensuring that Edelgard’s mental faculties were slowly being reduced to so much jelly as the places her professor touched became the only places that mattered in the universe, the only things she could feel at all. Those feelings were a current, a torch, a fire burning bright across her arms, her legs, her hips, her thighs, lighting the way along a path Edelgard had never traveled, but which felt too wonderful to _stop_ exploring.

And yet… did Edelgard say her teacher was working slowly? Perhaps she was working too quickly. The kisses to her neck turned into nibbles now, her breaths turning into pleading, desperate mewls and whimpers, as she allowed herself to be molded physically by her teacher after so many years of allowing the same mentally.

And so it went; the lower Byleth ventured, the stronger the tingles became, the stronger the yearnings, the stronger the need, the need to be tended to, to be serviced, to be _filled_.

“Professor… please,” she said with staggered breaths, I… I need…"

A purr in her ear was the only reply Edelgard received.

Still cupping Edelgard’s left breast, Byleth’s right hand moved lower at last, splaying her palm over Edelgard’s stomach, dancing her fingers across Edelgard’s hips, only making the tingles more intense, spreading through her body, unable to stop the jolts, the nipping pressure, the gasps, the utterly unseemly outbursts that Edelgard hoped to humanity no one could hear, especially as close to her window as they were…

And then, those same fingers found her panties which were already wet, and rubbed in firm circles, and Edelgard would have collapsed on the spot if not for the strong one-armed embrace of her instructor.

Edelgard cried out, maintaining just enough of her awareness to clamp one hand over her mouth as the first miniature explosion, as strong as a fireball, as sweet as syrup, rocked her from the inside, leaving her trembling, squealing, completely unable from that point on to think about silly, unimportant things like decorum or image or etiquette all there was right now was the _now_.

As the moment rippled through her, Edelgard relinquished control over her body, over her being, giving into the desire, the shivers, the instinct to voice her gratefulness through constant whimpers and moans, which only quickened and got louder as she felt her professor pull those panties down, and those wonderful fingers dance and slide even more intently across her lower lips.

And then Byleth’s thumb did the same to the nub above.

Miniature explosion number two. Her body jerked, twitched, as more syrup poured, this time over the sweetest chocolate cake, and Edelgard took the most luscious bite, just as she realized she’d been nowhere near ready for the taste.

Heavens above, how was she this sensitive? Was it her life? Was it her teacher? Was it the skill with her fingers that Edelgard just didn’t possess?

She leaned against the window, crying out to all who would hear her, just as she felt two fingers slip past her labia lips, and inside her, finally, _finally_ filling her, finally giving her what she wanted, and she took it greedily, her inner walls gripping hungrily against their visitors, sounds of squelching and wetness joining Edelgard’s world of pleasure as her professor pumped those digits in and out, sliding and tickling, and Edelgard could feel herself drenching her teacher’s hand with every stroke as, over and over, she begged them to come back, and welcomed their return home, and marveled at just how easily her professor had managed to gain such power over herself, the sovereign of an entire nation.

It was a notion that was easy to marvel, but silly to question.

Because her professor had always had it.

Edelgard rode the waves of heat and ecstasy, her heart now a ship whose anchor was severed long ago. The world became more colorful, less detailed, until she saw fit to grip the windowsill and close her eyes instead.

And through the darkness, through the love, the flavorful heat building within her brought back rainbow-colored memories of years ago, when she would sneak off to her room in the monastery, rip off her school clothes and pleasure herself at the thought of the tall and beautiful teacher Jeralt had recently brought to her house, and into her life. Tall, beautiful, _devoted…_

And now hers.

_She’s mine. She truly is mine._

The pleasure, the _pressure_ , built, completely uncontrollable, a tsunami from without and within…

_No…_

Byleth’s fingers exited her one last time, an entire slickened hand giving full caressing attention to Edelgard’s clit, this time without teasing, rubbing with purpose…

_No… I’m hers, completely hers… I belong to her…_

And Edelgard crashed.

_…forever!_

* * *

When the world made the slightest bit to Edelgard again, when her temperature showed the slightest signs of returning to some semblance of normalcy, she saw she was still in her teacher’s arms. Still shivering with ragged breaths, still unable to move due to every single one of her limbs feeling far too good for her to fight it.

Perhaps it was impossible to die from joy, but on occasion, one could certainly be _tortured_ by it.

She felt Byleth carry her to a nearby chair, sit her down, stroke her hair. “Professor…” she managed to utter, in the quietest of voices.

Byleth didn’t reply, giving Edelgard the same kiss to her forehead that had started the night’s events. After lingering close for a little while longer, she silently left the room.

Eventually, Edelgard was able to raise her head. So unseemly was she right now, so unkempt. _So_ worth it. She looked, and saw that she was sitting back in front of her paper-laden desk.

Suddenly, the mass of documents seemed nowhere near as daunting as they had when the night had started. Even a cursory glance at them revealed that she could actually distinguish the difference between each one’s purpose now. She was already thinking of solutions.

She chuckled.

_Clearing my mind by getting me to face the frustrations which were distracting me… oh, Professor…_

She spied a different-colored, blue paper close by, neatly folded atop another stack. She took it into her hands; detecting the faint scent of mint one last time, she unfolded it eagerly and read it:

_“Follow the example you take with me. Let others help. Don’t try to bear all your burdens alone. That’s what your class is for.”_

Edelgard’s eyebrows snapped up.

Delegation.

She already was far too aware of the concept in her current station as emperor, but to try such a thing so much closer to home… could she “delegate” amongst her friends? Would they truly be willing?

She thought to the others in the Black Eagle Strike Force. There were subjects in these papers that Lindhart could take care of with a good cup of coffee, Hubert for the more grisly matters, Bernadetta if Edelgard was willing to take trips to her room to check in on her. And surely her friends knew others, worthy of Edelgard’s trust.

With a smile and a nod, she acquiesced. It was worth a shot.

As usual, her teacher’s wisdom was infinite.

_~fin~_


End file.
